


Calling Mars

by ladysisyphus



Category: Heavy Rain
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:58:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysisyphus/pseuds/ladysisyphus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling Mars

**Author's Note:**

> It's hard to warn for spoilers for Heavy Rain because how you play the game affects the ending so much that it's not even a spoiler to say that someone dies, because you can play it so that character doesn't die! Or vice versa. There's only really one major spoiler, and that's who the killer is -- seeing how it's a murder mystery, and all -- and though I never mention it here, if you get your brain working too hard, you might be able to figure out who the killer isn't? But you shouldn't be reading this anyway if you haven't finished the game. 
> 
> Set about a year post-game; assumes you got the (mostly) good endings with tanks and book deals, and that Ethan failed his motel getaway quicktime events.

When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."

"But _Dad_ ," said Shaun in that little half-whine that had started to pop up when he was willing to be compliant but still not quite ready to concede defeat. Ethan supposed that was function of the teenager state that was looming just around the corner, and tried not to take it personally.

"You heard me." Ethan gave Shaun a strong one-armed hug, pulling him closer in from where he'd already spent the last half hour tucked against Ethan's side, then ruffled his hair and stood. "Off you go."

Shaun rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Okay, _fine_ ," he said, though he sank down into the couch cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table, his eyes lingering on the now-dark rectangle of the screen. "Hey, Dad, did Mr. Jayden help you a lot?"

Ethan had prepared himself beforehand for a deluge of questions sparked by watching the interview, but Shaun had been so quiet throughout that Ethan had assumed the silence would continue on through the evening; he stammered, uncertain about how best to explain what exactly had taken place. "Well ... I mean ... well, you heard him talk in the interview. He was ... he did some good deective work."

After thinking it over for a minute, Shaun nodded and stood, tugging at the arms of a long-sleeved t-shirt that was rapidly growing too small for his ever-lengthening eleven-year-old body. "He seems real brave," was all Shaun said; he took a quick breath as if he had something else to add, but nothing came.

"He definitely was," Ethan nodded, and he gave Shaun another side-hug before pushing him toward the bathroom. "Come on, school tomorrow!"

Shaun gave another whine, but he was laughing as he went, and Ethan watched him go for a moment before setting himself to the task of cleaning up the leftovers from their shared pizza supper. Even though he knew Shaun's good cheer wasn't faked, Ethan would still leave the door to his room half-open and one ear turned to any sounds of distress from the room next to his. Shaun was strong, but so were nightmares, and some ghosts were banished more easily than others.

 

~*~

 

When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."

"But _Dad_ ," said Shaun in that little half-whine that had started to pop up when he was willing to be compliant but still not quite ready to concede defeat. Ethan supposed that was function of the teenager state that was looming just around the corner, and tried not to take it personally.

"You promised if I let you stay up, you'd go to bed right after, remember?" Ethan gave Shaun a strong one-armed hug, pulling him closer in from where he'd already spent the last half hour tucked against Ethan's side, then ruffled his hair and stood. "Besides, the interview's over, and there's nothing left on but the news."

Shaun made a face at the idea of his least preferred form of programming. "Okay, _fine_ ," he said, though he sank down into the couch cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table, his eyes lingering on the now-dark rectangle of the screen. "Hey, Dad, did Mr. Jayden help you a lot?"

Ethan had prepared himself beforehand for a deluge of questions sparked by watching the interview, but Shaun had been so quiet throughout that Ethan had assumed the silence would continue on through the evening; he nodded, even though he wasn't quite sure how to articulate that assent. "Of course. He was the one who caught the killer, after all."

A dark cloud passed over his expression, but Shaun nodded and stood, tugging at the arms of a long-sleeved t-shirt that was rapidly growing too small for his ever-lengthening eleven-year-old body. "Did you tell him 'thank you'?" he asked, nudging one of the empty pizza boxes with his toe.

"I'm sure I did," Ethan nodded even as he sorted through his hazy memories of the police station, which faded into his drugged recall of the days following at the hospital. Had they even spoken afterward? He felt certain that they had, and yet as he thought back on it, he couldn't remember having seen Jayden at the hospital. There had been lots of police and reporters, though, and Ethan had been in pretty bad shape, so much so that it would've been easy for another FBI agent to pass by unnoticed.

Shaun frowned for a moment, then looked away, and when he looked back, his face had brightened in a smile again. "That's good," he nodded, and he shuffled off toward the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Ethan could remember the months after the accident when Shaun had barely wanted a closed door between them, especially not in bathrooms, with their ever-menacing showers and tubs; they'd showered together for nearly two months after, both in their bathing suits, twice a week if Ethan was lucky, and after that Shaun had still demanded a sentinel outside the door while he showered, talking to him the whole time. Dr. Bean had reassured him that increased independence was a good sign, and she was a great therapist, but it seemed cruel that the more indepedent Shaun got, the more alone Ethan felt.

 

~*~

 

When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."

"But _Dad_ ," said Shaun in that little half-whine that had started to pop up when he was willing to be compliant but still not quite ready to concede defeat. Ethan supposed that was function of the teenager state that was looming just around the corner, and tried not to take it personally.

Ethan wanted to say no, but the pleading look in Shaun's eyes was irresistible, and he sighed, slumping back against the couch and pressing the power button on the TV; it flared to life, filling the room with the tinny tones of a detergent jingle. "Fine," he sighed, "but when you're falling asleep in class tomorrow, you can't tell the teachers it's my fault."

"You're the _best_ , Dad!" Shaun buried his face in Ethan's shoulder, and Ethan held him close, sleepy but content.

 

~*~

 

When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."

"But _Dad_ ," said Shaun in that little half-whine that had started to pop up when he was willing to be compliant but still not quite ready to concede defeat. Ethan supposed that was function of the teenager state that was looming just around the corner, and tried not to take it personally.

"No buts." Ethan gave Shaun a strong one-armed hug, pulling him closer in from where he'd already spent the last half hour tucked against Ethan's side, then ruffled his hair and stood. "Come on, Shaun, growing up means you have to take responsibility for your own bedime."

Shaun rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Okay, _fine_ ," he said, though he sank down into the couch cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table, his eyes lingering on the now-dark rectangle of the screen. "Hey, Dad, did Mr. Jayden help you a lot?"

Ethan had prepared himself beforehand for a deluge of questions sparked by watching the interview, but Shaun had been so quiet throughout that Ethan had assumed the silence would continue on through the evening; he grew serious and folded his arms across his chest. "Absolutely. He was a big help. He did most of the difficult detective work, and he never believed I'd hurt you."

After thinking it over for a minute, Shaun nodded and stood, tugging at the arms of a long-sleeved t-shirt that was rapidly growing too small for his ever-lengthening eleven-year-old body. "Did you tell him 'thank you'?" he asked, leaning over and straightening up the half-empty pizza boxes.

With a little shrug, Ethan reached into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. "Well, I _do_ have his number." Before he could flip it open and go rumming through the section of accumulated business cards, however, he paused and looked around, frowning at the mess he'd let the place become of late. "...Have you seen my phone?"

Shaun shrugged, wandering off in the direction of the bathroom. "I thought it was on the coffee table."

Ethan spent the next twenty minutes simultaneously looking for his phone and cleaning up the remnants of dinner, and by the time all the leftover pizza was tinfoil-wrapped and in the fridge, he was too tired to look any longer. If all else failed, he could call it in the morning from the land line; he'd once found it at the bottom of Shaun's laundry basket that way, and another time inside the silverware drawer. He liked to keep a neat house, but some things just were prone to go missing, and there was nothing for it.

By the time it turned up the next morning, he'd forgotten why he'd wanted it so immediately in the first place.

 

~*~

 

When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."

"But _Dad_ ," said Shaun in that little half-whine that had started to pop up when he was willing to be compliant but still not quite ready to concede defeat. Ethan supposed that was function of the teenager state that was looming just around the corner, and tried not to take it personally.

"...Fine." Ethan gave Shaun a strong one-armed hug, pulling him closer in from where he'd already spent the last half hour tucked against Ethan's side, then ruffled his hair and stood. "Another fifteen minutes, but that's _it_. Your dear ol' dad's going to bed, too."

Shaun rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Thanks," he said, and he sank down into the couch cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table, searching around for the remote. "Hey, Dad, did Mr. Jayden help you a lot?"

Ethan had prepared himself beforehand for a deluge of questions sparked by watching the interview, but Shaun had been so quiet throughout that Ethan had assumed the silence would continue on through the evening; he nodded and handed Shaun the remote, letting Shaun navigate the mess of post-prime-time television. "Sure. There were a lot of police that helped."

After thinking it over for a minute, Shaun nodded and turned to the TV guide channel. "Did you tell him 'thank you'?" he asked, frowning at the dismal selection of late-night entertainment.

Shaking his head, Ethan waved his hand through the air as though dismissing the suggestion entirely. "He was just doing his job, just like the rest of the police. It's what they do." In light of the circumstances of Shaun's abduction, and especially considering how a generous pre-emptive settlement offer from the City of Philadelphia was making up for all of Ethan's lost job time, Ethan had taken pains to make clear how _most_ law enforcement officials were still good guys who could be trusted. Shaun still looked skeptical, as he usually did, but less than a minute later he'd found reruns of _Cheers_ in syndication, and less than a minute after _that_ , Ethan had resumed his previous place on the couch, hugging Shaun close to his chest as the bright laughter from the live studio audience chased away the lingering shadows.

 

~*~

 

When the news show's theme started playing and its bright yellow credits started scrolling over the screen, superimposed over the now-shadowed figures still perched in their comfortable studio chairs, Ethan reached for the remote control and powered down the set. "Okay, buddy, now off to bed, just like you promised."

"But _Dad_ ," said Shaun in that little half-whine that had started to pop up when he was willing to be compliant but still not quite ready to concede defeat. Ethan supposed that was function of the teenager state that was looming just around the corner, and tried not to take it personally.

"No buts." Ethan gave Shaun a strong one-armed hug, pulling him closer in from where he'd already spent the last half hour tucked against Ethan's side, then ruffled his hair and stood. "School tomorrow, and if I call and tell them you can't come it because I let you stay up too late watching TV. They'd take away my Dad Permit."

Shaun rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Okay, _fine_ ," he said, though he sank down into the couch cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table, his eyes lingering on the now-dark rectangle of the screen. "Hey, Dad, did Mr. Jayden help you a lot?"

Ethan had prepared himself beforehand for a deluge of questions sparked by watching the interview, but Shaun had been so quiet throughout that Ethan had assumed the silence would continue on through the evening; he took a deep breath and caught himself rubbing at the memory of handcuffs around his wrists. "He...." Ethan swallowed and sat down on the arm of the couch. "Yeah, buddy. He saved my life. He saved both our lives."

After thinking it over for a minute, Shaun nodded and stood, tugging at the arms of a long-sleeved t-shirt that was rapidly growing too small for his ever-lengthening eleven-year-old body. "Did you tell him 'thank you'?" he asked, fixing Ethan with those eyes he'd gotten from Grace, the ones that could bore through solid concrete, much less a pushover dad.

 _Sure I did,_ Ethan began, but then he stopped, unable to say for certain whether or not the statement he was about to make was the truth. He'd meant to, of course, especially since no one, not even Madison, knew the true dimensions of what Jayden had done for him -- but not one of his good intentions had ever led him anywhere more than a half-hearted promise to himself of _maybe later_ , easily forgotten in the whirlwind of hospitals and relocating and trying to get a pair of lives back on track. Sometimes the effort of just plain daily living was so consuming for Ethan that it was easy to forget how much he owed every day to people like Jayden. Shaun, as usual, was right.

"No, buddy," Ethan said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. Madison's card sat tucked in its usual place, but he reached instead for the one behind it -- the one she'd given him last time, with the FBI's seal printed on the front and an extension jotted on the back by someone who possessed a quality of penmanship much higher than Madison's scrawl. "I didn't. Why don't you go brush your teeth and I'll give him a call?"

A mile-wide grin stretched across Shaun's face, though it was swallowed quickly in a yawn, and he trundled off toward the bathroom. Ethan glanced around the apartment for where he'd left his phone, and barely saw the corner of its bright blue case peeking out from beneath some of Shaun's schoolwork. He punched in the numbers and the extension, and a recorded message picked up almost before the first ring, its flat New England tones unfamiliar and comforting at once: "This is Special Agent Norman Jayden, I'm not at my desk now, so leave a message."

The beep startled Ethan, who hadn't rehearsed what to say, so he took the first thing out of his mouth and ran with it: "Hi, Mr. -- Agent Jayden, hi, this is Ethan Mars." He paused, wondering if he should give a little more identifying information, but figured the man who'd just spent half an hour talking about his case on prime time TV probably remembered who he was. "I ... suppose you're wondering how I got your number, I'd be wondering too, but Madison, the last time we spoke, she gave me the card you'd given her, so...." Shaun peeked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush tucked in the corner of his mouth, looking expectant, and Ethan gave him a thumbs-up. "At any rate, Shaun and I -- we just saw you on _Nightwire_ \-- you were very good, by the way -- and we thought, since we live in the area that it might be nice to get together sometime so you can meet him. That is, if you're not too busy, I understand your job can be demanding." By now he was growing paranoid that there might be a time limit to messages, so he made sure to leave both his home and cell numbers, then concluded with a very awkward, "From both of us, thank you," before tapping the screen and ending the call.

Shaun looked out again, wiping his face with a hand towel; he was older now than Jason would ever be, and his lean face had begun to show the contours of what a handsome man he'd grow up to be. "You think he'll say yes?"

"I don't know, buddy," said Ethan, staring at his phone as though it might somehow have the answer to Shaun's question; the screen, however, lingered for a few more seconds on a picture of Shaun at the park, laughing as he dangled upside-down from the monkey bars in the bright September sun, before it went dark. "There's always the possibility."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Marriott Variations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/800034) by [whitachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitachi/pseuds/whitachi)




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